


Little Girl Blue

by Missy



Category: Me and Bobby McGee - Janis Joplin (Song)
Genre: Bittersweet, Break Up, Determination, F/M, Fights, Future Fic, Post-Canon, Re-Meetings, Road Trips, Romance, Triumphs, Vignette, failures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-14 17:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18952465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Snapshots from the road.





	Little Girl Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [newyorktopaloalto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/gifts).



Houston is hot as the sun, and her feet ache in her improvised shoes. Bobby brings her corn and ribs, fresh from a roadside stall. He leans back casually and watches her eat before taking his share.

“If you’re obliged,” he says, “you might want to check your pack.”

She digs through the detritus – her clothing, a candy wrapper, a map. Then she feels something solid at the bottom of the pack.

She pulls out a pair of sturdy brown boots.

He has bought her new shoes. She had no idea how he’d managed it, but somehow…

Not bothering to ask important questions, she wraps her arms around his neck.

*** 

In Missoula, they busk in the pouring rain for a group of folks waiting for the train. It was one of those Bobby-moments; the sort that only he could conjure up and make real. He is howling the blues and she is playing her banjo firm and hard, to beat the cold. They do ‘Sugar in My Bowl’ and ‘Crossroads’ and ‘Blue Monday’. 

And when the train stops, her hat is filled to the brim with dollar bills.

They travel and eat first class that night. She remembers the skies clearing and the moon shining in through their motel window as she holds on to him, listening to the rain tap the roof and, for once, staying dry.

*** 

It’s warm as hell in New York City. They’ve been trying to get a spot onstage at the Bottom Line and no one’s paying attention to anyone who wasn’t born and bred in the Village. They have a fight under the stars about their silly dreams, their dwindling finances, and she runs away from him for blocks, her boots giving against the warm concrete.

Somehow she stumbles into a bar, blinded by her own tears, and gets powerfully drunk. When he finds her, he’s warmth and forgiveness, his arms tight around her. He doesn’t hush her, doesn’t reproach her for spending all of their money on booze – it would do no good, for he may follow her path someday. 

When the tears stop, she feels good again.

And feeling good is good enough.

 

*** 

She has a husband and three kids. She teaches music in a little Texas town named Port Arthur. 

He’s a music sheet salesman now. She notices he holds himself differently. There’s a streak of grey in his hair, and something haunted in his face. But his laugh is still the same.

When she plays, he sits in the back of the room, a stranger among children – not far from them in his innocence – and listens quietly.

When it’s over, he smiles, tips his hat, and thanks her for keeping his music alive.

She almost leaves with him.

Almost.


End file.
